


When The Night Comes Collection

by Roswell_the_crow



Category: When The Night Comes (Visual Novel)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Other, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:35:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roswell_the_crow/pseuds/Roswell_the_crow
Summary: I am trash for this game. There it is, I've officially said it. I love visual novels and the devs are wonderful people. This is just a place to put things I've written for my fan hunter, Astor.





	1. Paperwork (No pairing)

Astor Beauchêne reported to the Enforcer headquarters on time as usual. Knocking on the door, he checked his pocketwatch. A minute or two early, in fact. A muffled "come in" signalled him to open the door. He stepped inside, concious of how he acts or speaks. Enforcer Willenheim kind of intimidated him, no matter how pretty they looked.   
"That stack of papers is a report of all findings thus far. See to it that it is read by this time tomorrow, hunter Beauchêne. You will start a separate report of your own evidence," August said.   
"Yes, General." Astor opened his mouth as if to say something else, but changed his mind. "I won't trouble you further. Au revoir."

He turned away from the desk and the exhausted- looking person behind it. They were in their usual attire, but the bags under their eyes were much more pronounced. Maybe I could ask Piper? The brunet must have mumbled it, because August's voice pierced the pristine quiet.   
"Ask hunter Meriman concerning what? That is classified information and she is no longer a part of this investigation." Astor stilled before turning around. His mind registered the sunlight filtering through their hair unbidden.   
"I... am not really as good at wording reports as I properly should." The daunting stack of papers were held up for emphasis.   
"I'm sure it's within your capabilities to write about what you've experienced with this case. Otherwise someone so inept wouldn't have been recommended for this."

This isn't ending well, he thought bemusedly.   
"I'm sorry, General Willenheim. I will try my best, of course, but it won't be prose or anything similar. Some of it... c'est un gâchis. I'm not quite sure how to put onto paper." August sighed in response to that, and they seemed infinitely more overwhelmed. He couldn't help but feel guilty, even as he waited to be berated.   
"You don't have to embellish it, we just need coherent facts. Can you manage that?"  
"Definitely," he nodded. "I didn't mean to waste your time." Astor made his way out of the building, heavy boots hitting the ground rhythmically.


	2. Lunar Festival (August)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astor decides to go to the Lunar Festival with August. If he has to go, why not have fun? His first choice is his enforcer, and all that entails. (So this was fun to write, even though Astor technically went with Omen.) I just couldn't help myself.

Astor was admittedly a lttle excited to experience the Lunar Festival. It was supposed to be more than you'd expect from such a small town. He had asked August to go with him, and the other rolled their eyes and said to meet them at headquarters. Their outfit was lovely, and Astor couldn't force a sheepish look when he was yelled at for missing the meeting. He wondered if his Enforcer would be so strict as to how he acted while out. He wasn't a troublemaker, by any means, but if he had to go he preferred it to be casual. He finished dressing, a silver dagger secreted away for good measure. 

His outfit consisted of an icy blue collared shirt, black pants, and a white coat. It had embroidery on the cuffs and metal buttons. He had nice clothes from his father before he died, but his shoes were a different matter. Astor only had his usual heavy boots, worn dark leather he had for work. He cleaned them up a little, but it was the best he could do on a short notice. He never took hs necklace off, so it was a necessary staple to any outfit. It was a simple chain with his parents' wedding rings and a pendant of his friend's on it. 

He was freshly bathed and his brown hair was left alone. It was too short to qualify fixing it, but had a tidy length to it. His green eyes stared at his scars through the mirror he had. There was nothing he could do to hide the three gashes on the right side of his face. They had healed jagged and rough, but that was just par for the course of being a hunter. He checked the rest of his reflection before leaving his room at the Wolf. Drinks and revelry was were in full swing despite recent events. Regardless, he disagreed with putting their guard down. August did say they were due a body soon. 

Only one patron spared him a glance as he set foot in the chilly winter air. The entire town was alight with excitement. People were out and about, and market stalls had wares ranging from regular items to mementos to drinks. There was faint music as he made his way to the place he was to meet August at. The hilt of his dagger was close at hand. Hunters can never afford to be caught off guard- it would mean their death. 

After waiting outside a while, he risked stepping inside to see what was taking the Enforcer so long. The door to their office was ajar, and he pushed it fully open as he breathed a sigh of relief. His breath was immediately caught when he saw the blue swirls along every inch of the walls. The air was thick with ozone, a smell any magic gave off, but there was a hint of something flowery underneath it.   
"August..." he whispered, his accent curling the name. They sent a surprised look at his sudden appearance. He studied the sloping lines further and reached out to trace them with his fingers.   
"I've spent so much time here, and my magic has been unstable lately... I can't quite get it under control," they said, almost like an apology.   
"Then don't," Astor remarked simply. August seemed startled, but quickly recovered.  
"I find it shameful that I cannot."  
"Your magic is as lovely as you are, mon ange. It's not worthy of shame." They seem to calm considerably at that.

They both walk to the market, side by side no matter how much Astor wants to take their hand. At first Ezra finds them. It is horribly awkward, and he wonders what happened between them to make it so. Ezra looks sad as he stares towards August, but they look anywhere but him. The other witch tells Astor about the supplies he picked up when prompted, but August is silent. He feels guilty that Ezra is no doubt uncomfortable regardless of how friendly he tries to be. Ezra says he has to find Finn and continues on his way through the crowd. Astor lets the question drop, since they are supposed to be having a good evening. Maybe he'll get an answer some other time. 

A few other friends say hello as they start towards a drink stand. It's one August is fond of, which is no surprise. Even though wine isn't usually Astor's first choice, he takes a cup and doesn't regret it in the slightest. It is spiced perfectly and the cup warmed his hands. They eventually make their way to where Harry is giving his speech, and the fireworks soon after. Astor studies August's face, Harry's words still in his ears. The lights flash as he stands closer to them, and he knows there is most likely a blush on his cheeks. Before he can say anything, a gut-wrenching scream is heard somewhere in the near distance...


	3. Bite (Hunter x Omkar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was mainly trying to get two of the LIs down (my favorites). I think it's a lot better than it could've been, but it needs a lot of work. My fanhunter is a major masochist, and it shows. How does the disaster boys react? (Also I cut this off because I really can't write smut.) Concrit is appreciated!

Astor couldn't wait until he could go back to his room at the Wolf. Well, it was really all three of theirs, but as far as any enforcer knows it's just his. Except, he thinks, August has figured it out.  
"What is it between you and some of Ezra's gaggle of creatures? People talk, Hunter Beauchêne." he had turned his report in to them, but was kept longer than anticipated.  
"No disrespect, General, but that's private and irrelevant to my work." he tried to sound as polite as possible.  
"That lycan has an enforcer brand, and for good reason. And the demon? Need I remind you-"  
"That's not necessary," he snapped "I can handle myself, adieu."

Astor was at his room. A glass of whiskey sounded nice, but Omen was probably still there. The chance of that was great when the door opened without a key. He and Alkar both were there. He had apparently stepped in at the wrong (or right) time. They were lip-locked and Alkar was on Omen's lap. Neither heard him come in, so he stood for a moment admiring the two men he cared for deeply. Alkar noticed him first, most likely by his scent, as he recalls him mentioning.  
"Don't mind me, I'll just be taking my boots off." he said casually and moved to do just that.  
"Only your boots?" Omen asked, his face the perfect picture of innocence.  
"I could be persuaded to do more," he smirked.  
"Such an axiomatic answer," Omen laughed. 

Alkar did his usual amount of grumbling, but it didn't have the same effect when he was flushed and straddling the demon. Astor loved how easy he was to tease, and his reactions.  
"Just shut up and get over here." Alkar said, but not too loudly. He stepped over to the bed and scooted to be pressed against his back and facing Omen. The close proximity gave him a chance to feel the lycan's body heat and hear the hitches in his breathing. The two kissed again as Astor ran his hands over anywhere he could touch. The breathy moans filling the room was music to Astor's ears. 

A switch in position and he was kissing Omen and Alkar marking up his neck. Sucking hickeys was a given for all three of them, unsurprisingly. The scraping of teeth against the juncture of his neck and shoulder was more than likely accidental, as Omen and Alkar both have sharper teeth that could puncture skin easier. Not as much as Finn, speaking from personal experience, but more than a human's. The pain sent a jolt of pleasure down Astor's spine.  
"Do that again, please," he panted. The sharper prick of canines had him moaning. He didn't have to look- he could feel Alkar smirking against his shoulder.  
"Our hunter likes being bitten? Anything else you haven't told us?"  
"He likes his hair pulled, I've noticed," Omen added in response. Astor looked sheepish.  
"Bit of a masochist," he mumbled.  
"Why not say anything before?" They both countered. 

He shrugged, not really having an answer for that. It was also hard to concentrate when there was fingertips still dancing over his skin. Some of their clothes ended up in a pile nearby, including his shirt. Rather than continue being questioned, he initiated more attention to Omen and the topic was dropped.


End file.
